


Scenes from a life where Sasuke was born first

by Natarie



Category: Naruto
Genre: Dai-nana-han | Team 7 (Naruto) Feels, Families of Choice, Fluff, Friendship, Fugaku's priorities are all wrong, Gen, Non-Massacre AU, Protect babby Itachi, Sasuke is the Elder Brother AU, Slice of Life, Uchiha Bros Being Precious, ageswap au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 02:52:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9363098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Natarie/pseuds/Natarie
Summary: Otou-san said things like that sometimes, about Itachi beingbetter. As if itmatteredthat Itachi could have graduated the Academy before Sasuke if he and Kaa-chan hadn’t held him back, or that somehow Itachi always understood what their Otou-san tried to teach him better and at a younger age than his Nii-san.Being able to hit a target didn’t help him understand people, especially the way they said one thing and did another, even when it was a regular day and not for a mission. And they didn’t understandhim—that being good at being a shinobi didn’t mean helikedit or that he wanted it. He wasn’t cheating or doing in on purpose for attention, it was just the way he was.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for the prompt ["Mikoto and Fugaku want a grandchild, and both of them want a pink haired daughter-in-law. There is just one problem, Mikoto wants Sakura to marry Sasuke, and Fugaku wants her to marry Itachi."](http://magicabout.tumblr.com/post/153202313400/hi-theree-i-read-your-fanfic-threefold-and-i) (though as you can see, this didn't end up going in a shippery direction) over at my [tumblr](http://magicabout.tumblr.com/)

(12/7) **  
**

Sasuke wasn’t alone.

Itachi shrank back against the treeline at the edge of Training Ground Three, grip tightening on the bento box he held. He’d hoped to find Sasuke by himself so he could deliver an apology for the things their Otou-san had said, not waiting with his new genin teammates.

Uzumaki Naruto and Haruno Sakura.

Uzumaki had been in last place in their Academy class with a reputation for trouble-making, yet had managed to graduate under mysterious circumstances. That, plus the disproportionately hostile reactions of the villagers towards him and the funny face Kaa-chan made when she heard his name—a mix of sadness and determination he’d never seen before—made him think there was more to Uzumaki than being a prankster.

Haruno had received the highest marks on the Academy graduation written exam, but she lacked practical skills and, worse in his brother’s opinion, was a fangirl. Looking at her from across the field she didn’t seem too bad, but Sasuke was insistent that having girls giggling around him was annoying, and having one on his team meant he couldn’t avoid her. Itachi didn’t like anyone who bothered his Nii-san, but he would hold his opinion for now.

Shisui had told him that their sensei, Hatake Kakashi, was notorious for being late, but Itachi wasn’t so sure. Timing was a very important skill for all shinobi, and it seemed more likely that Hatake timed his appearances on purpose. He scanned the edges of the field with a critical eye, thinking about sight-lines, but didn’t do more than look. He didn’t know what training they did as a team, and pointing out their sensei might reflect badly on his Nii-san.

He glanced again at where Hatake-san was and swallowed nervously. As much as he wanted to be alone with his brother, he didn’t want to interrupt Nii-san’s training, not after Otou-san’s words.

He tilted his chin up—the Clan Head’s son didn’t _cringe_ —and started making his way across the field.

“Oi, who’s that?”

Uzumaki was _loud_. Despite himself Itachi flinched a little and tried to approach so Nii-san was between him and the other boy.

“Watch it, dobe.”

To his relief, his brother stepped in his direction, placing himself in front of Itachi.

“This is my brother, and he’s twice the shinobi you are.”

Itachi bit his lip and glanced up at Sasuke’s profile. Otou-san said things like that sometimes, about Itachi being _better_. As if it _mattered_ that Itachi could have graduated the Academy before Sasuke if he and Kaa-chan hadn’t held him back, or that somehow Itachi always understood what their Otou-san tried to teach him better and at a younger age than his Nii-san.

Everyone _liked_ Sasuke, not like they pretended to like Itachi because he was the Uchiha Clan Head’s prodigy son only to say things about how he wasn’t normal, probably had something wrong with him to be as good at fighting as he was behind his back. The Clan liked Sasuke, he was friendly with the heirs of the other Clans, popular at the Academy with his classmates and sensei.

Kaa-chan said he’d be like that someday too, but Itachi didn’t believe it. Being able to hit a target didn’t help him understand people, especially the way they said one thing and did another, even when it was a regular day and not for a mission. And they didn’t understand _him_ —that being good at being a shinobi didn’t mean he _liked_ it or that he wanted it. He wasn’t cheating or doing in on purpose for attention, it was just the way he was.

That his Nii-san might believe that too made his heart clench with fear. He reached up to grab Sasuke’s shirt, but was startled by Uzumaki’s sudden appearance.

“Ne, ne! _This_ is your brother, the one you’re always going on about?” He pushed past Sasuke to better see Itachi, getting too close. “That’s so cool! Do you think you could teach me some time? Teme says I need all the help I can get.”

“Dobe.”

Uzumaki looked at Sasuke, then took a big step backwards.

“Sorry, sorry!” He laughed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’m Uzumaki Naruto, nice to meet you! You don’t have to help me or anything if you don’t want to. I know he’s a teme, but he’s your brother so obviously you’d want to help him instead.”

Itachi glanced at his brother for guidance, but Sasuke was looking at his teammate so he bowed and returned the greeting.

Uzumaki was loud and rude, but he met Itachi’s eyes the entire time he was talking, and his smile was big and genuine. Knowing Itachi was younger and better didn’t make him angry or scared, and he didn’t seem put out that Itachi didn’t know what to say. It was strangely nice despite the awkwardness, but he reminded himself that he wasn’t there to distract Nii-san or his teammates.

“Um.”

Uzumaki wasn’t paying attention, lost in his enthusiasm for ramen, but Sasuke heard and looked at him.

“Kaa-chan said you forgot your lunch.”

“Teme!” Itachi twitched, nearly dropping the box before Nii-san took it from him.

“You have a little brother who’s an awesome shinobi _and_ he brings you lunch? That’s totally unfair, dattebayo!” His stomach growled before he could finish speaking.

Sasuke rolled his eyes and shoved the bento at his teammate.

“Shut up, dobe. It’s your own fault if you forgot to eat breakfast.”

Uzumaki tried to say something in reply and rice sprayed from his mouth.

“Ignore him,” his brother instructed. “Thanks, Itachi.”

Uzumaki was too busy eating to interrupt and Sasuke was looking at him now. He wouldn’t get a better chance.

“Nii-san, about Otou-san—” He faltered when his brother’s small smile disappeared, heart pounding rapidly. “I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have. Not because of me. I—”

His mouth snapped closed when Sasuke flicked him gently on the forehead.

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault.”

“But…”

Sasuke stared at him for a long moment, then shook his head.

“Chichi-ue wants you to train, right? He won’t care where you do it; you should train here. Kakashi’s lazy, but he _is_ a jounin.”

Overwhelmed—Nii-san wasn’t angry with him, didn’t mind if Itachi trained with him and his team even if he was better at some things than him—Itachi could only nod his head. Sasuke smiled and flicked his forehead again before turning to retrieve his bento.

Halfway across the field Haruno, who’d hung back while he talked to his brother and Uzumaki, approached him.

“Excuse me. You’re Sasuke-kun’s younger brother, Uchiha Itachi-kun, right? I’m Haruno Sakura.”

Unlike Uzumaki she knew her manners, bowing as she introduced herself, but something about her smile rang false.

“You, um, you don’t look as much like him.” She blushed, covering her face with her hands. “Sorry! I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I’m told I take after my mother,” Itachi said stiffly.

Kaa-chan said he’d be handsome one day, but he’d heard people say he’d be beautiful when they thought he couldn’t hear in the same way they’d talk about a poisonous flower.

“I can see that.” She peered at him, then looked towards where his brother was arguing with Uzumaki. “Sasuke-kun looks like your father, but… He’s not really _like_ him, is he?”

Itachi didn’t always understand people, but Nii-san never took it out on him like their Otou-san. He, Shisui, and Kaa-chan never minded explaining things to him when something someone said or did confused him. They understood it was hard to find the words to explain how he felt, and they didn’t mind waiting when he struggled.

Mutely, he shook his head, but Haruno was still staring at his brother. Watching her face, Itachi was startled when her expression shifted into something he _did_ understand. It wasn’t the same pouty adoration he saw from Nii-san’s fangirls, but a look of mingled envy and wistfulness. Itachi recognized it because he felt it himself.

“Is Sasuke-kun a good big brother?”

Itachi nodded, stunned at what he’d just seen.

“Yeah,” Haruno smiled the same falsely bright smile from before, “I thought so.”

And maybe she _was_ a fangirl—though Itachi didn’t think so, not the way Sasuke thought she was—but at least she _knew_ his brother, if only a little bit, and realized how great he was. Nobody was good enough for his Nii-san, but as a teammate she’d do.

He glanced at the members of Team Seven when he reached the edge of the field. Haruno had joined her teammates and was now scolding Uzumaki for refusing to surrender his Nii-san’s bento. He looked to where their sensei had been sitting the entire time. The jounin caught his eye, held up a hand in acknowledgment, and winked.

At least Itachi _thought_ he was winking; it was hard to tell.

* * *

 

(13/8)

Mikoto looked up when she heard the door open and the sound of people talking over each other invade the house. Beside her Itachi paused for a second, then his steady chopping resumed. It was his only reaction but she knew her son and had to turn away to hide her smile.

The voices grew louder, her eldest and his teammates spilling into the kitchen. They decimated the fruit bowl like a flock of locusts as they passed, then vanished as quickly as they’d appeared. Itachi was still chopping.

For a moment Mikoto—the part of her that had worked hard to earn her rank, even if she’d decided to prioritize her family over her career—was proud. Itachi had absorbed every lesson he’d ever been taught on the shinobi arts and applied them systematically and thoroughly in every way he could. He could be anything he wanted—combat specialist, infiltration and espionage expert, strategist, Jounin-sensei, intelligence and code-breaking, ANBU, maybe even Hokage.

But then she remembered herself, and quieted those thoughts. Ambition was her husband’s domain and she was happy to leave it to him. If both of them became too carried away with the Clan’s all-consuming expectations the ones to suffer would be their sons, and Mikoto would never let that happen if she could prevent it. And unlike Fugaku, she understood that the Clan’s priorities blinded him to the reality of their children’s true strengths and weaknesses.

Despite that he’d been allowed to graduate now that his brother was no longer at the Academy, Itachi was still a shy, sensitive little boy, younger than Sasuke at the same age. That was the reason she’d pushed for a transition between the Academy and a genin team assignment, and the reason she hadn’t argued for the role herself, though she was more than qualified to be a Jounin-sensei. Itachi needed experience outside his comfort zone, and he’d be protected with a dedicated teacher. Let Fugaku think he was being primed for a leadership position. Mikoto knew what their son really lacked was social exposure.

“They’ll be out back now. Why don’t you join them?”

Itachi didn’t pause this time, knife steady and rhythmic against the cutting board.

“I can finish, Kaa-chan.”

“Oh, I know you can, but I’m more than capable of making dinner on my own.” She didn’t look at him, knowing he’d hear the smile in her voice.

“Didn’t you have a scroll on chakra nature transformations you wanted to show Sakura-chan?”

She risked a glance. He wasn’t looking at his work anymore, running on automatic as he dissected her words for hidden meaning. Mikoto’s throat tightened at his need to question _her_ motives; if he grew too adept at hiding his thoughts how would she take care of him?

“You’re sure it’s okay?”

And there was her little boy again, hesitant and second-guessing himself over things he shouldn’t doubt. Mikoto smiled again and nudged him gently with her hip.

“Of course. Go on, and don’t let your brother and Naruto-kun get carried away with the targets again.”

She waited an appropriate amount of time before peeking out the window at her children. Sasuke and Naruto had predictably fallen into another contest, trading good-natured taunts as their hurled projectiles. Closer to the house two heads were bent over a scroll laid out on the grass, pink and black mingling as they conferred.

As a woman she’d understood Haruno Sakura’s crush on Sasuke, remembering the delirious flush that came from imagining yourself in first love. As a mother she’d been more critical. Such feelings could be a distraction at the best of times, much worse in the frequently deadly context of a mission.

But if Sakura’s friendship with her second son had started as an attempt to gain the attention of her first, it had not stayed that way. Strategically minded and hyper-intelligent, the two had found common interests, and Sakura wasn’t bothered that a boy who was her junior in rank and age could keep up with her intellectually as so many others were.

Itachi gained from her forthright acceptance and the companionship of a like-minded person with whom he could exchange ideas freely. Sakura, whose initial demure personality had been a thin veneer disguising the insecurity of a girl transitioning into a woman, had begun to stretch her wings in a relationship uncomplicated by judgement, revealing the beginnings of a confident young woman.

Their interaction had led her to reconsider her original assessment of the girl. Sakura could be fiercely protective of those she cared about, and she was learning to disregard her vanity in exchange for kindness and strength. Those qualities would make her an ideal bride for the next Uchiha Clan Head. Mikoto had been more easily swayed by the Clan’s ideology when she was first married, but her experience with her sons had shown the Clan ill-suited to balancing the needs of the collective against those of the individual.

Sakura-chan, she suspected, would _not_ allow any whim of the Elders to pass unchallenged. She was dedicated and hard-working, and would resist any attempts to devalue her efforts. Many newer shinobi families now balanced the demands at home against those of their chosen profession. Things were changing on the fringes of the Clan as well, but a shift at the top would accelerate that progress. If the Elders weren’t so focused on protecting the old traditions they might turn their energies to more productive goals.

Of course such concerns remained some time in the future. Sasuke’s feelings would need to change, Sakura’s to stay the same, and the both of them to mature. These things did happen, but Mikoto would be content as long as Team Seven maintained their bonds as teammates, no matter what eventual careers the three chose.

As for Naruto— It had galled her to watch the treatment of her friend’s orphaned son, more so seeing the effect of petty politics on the life of an innocent child. She’d exerted influence where she could, and her caution had paid off. Now that he was Sasuke’s teammate no one could accuse the wife of the Uchiha Clan Head of undue favoritism or attempting to control the village’s Jinchuuriki—after all, taking care of Naruto-kun was merely an extension of keeping her own son happy.

Like Kushina, Naruto was brash and loud, and frequently channelled his optimism into over-confidence because his heart was too big to keep in his chest. His gregariousness was unlike anything the Uchiha aspired for their children to be. Mikoto found it deeply refreshing.

He taught Sasuke to relax, to shrug off some of the pressure her husband heaped on his shoulders and handle his worries day-to-day without drowning under the weight of them. For Itachi, Naruto was another big brother, pairing a selective blindness towards the differences others saw as shortcomings with a bullied child’s desire to include everyone.

Sasuke had learned early and without prompting the benefits to sharing his teammates. Mikoto hoped that Itachi’s eventual genin team was even half as good for him as Team Seven had been. She’d gained another son—Naruto eating with them so often another place was automatically set for him at dinner. Maybe in the future she’d be lucky enough to have a daughter.

Smiling, Mikoto turned away from the window to return to the dinner preparations. She’d need to make more, now that she had extra mouths to feed.

* * *

 

(15/10)

Fugaku nodded approval when Sasuke finished speaking of his work in the Military Police with his cousins. As head of the Force he already knew of his eldest’s activity, but he expected his children to update him as they always had.

“And what about you, Itachi? How are your missions?”

“I have completed my assignments to the Hokage’s satisfaction, Chichi-ue.” His tone of voice was detached. He could have been speaking of anything.

Fugaku nodded again, pleased. He’d worked hard to cure his youngest of his appalling tells in body language. Now his son was the perfect example of the cool demeanor the Uchiha strove to maintain—direct eye contact, confident bearing, and not a whisper of troublesome emotions that could be used against him. He did wish Sasuke had been a better study like his brother, the boy’s emotions too strong to be completely hidden when he was at his most volatile.

He blamed that Uzumaki brat. Unlike Itachi, whose involvement was limited by schedule, being on the same team had made Sasuke inseparable from the little fox, and he’d picked up bad habits as a result. It was good he’d had another son, as he’d realized long ago that his eldest was only capable of so much. As Clan Head Sasuke would be adequate, if not ideal. That matter settled, Fugaku had turned to his youngest for the fulfilment of his other ambitions.

“Has the Hokage recognized your competency, Itachi? It’s important you use your position to the advantage of the Clan.”

Itachi paused, but Fugaku only waited. The impatience Team Seven had tainted Sasuke with didn’t affect his brother. Itachi’s responses were measured, respectful and diplomatic. Likely he was debating the level of detail he could disclose without compromising village security.

“Chichi-ue, I—”

A knock preceded Mikoto’s appearance.

“Dinner!”

Fugaku frowned at the inappropriateness of her interruption.

“Mikoto, surely it can wait?”

“It’s increasingly rare our family is together for meal times lately. You may speak with our sons after. For now I want to have dinner together as a family.” Her expression was pleasant, but there was a hint of steel in her tone.

She smiled at their sons and both stood, to Fugaku’s displeasure, neither concerned with the abrupt change in routine. Left behind, Fugaku stood and followed his family to the table, gritting his teeth as he went.

Mikoto had vehemently opposed Itachi’s application to ANBU, despite the many arguments on the benefit to the Clan and the boy. Since then her challenges to his authority as Head of the Clan and of their family had grown in number. They’d had many happy years of marriage, but Mikoto’s refusal to see reason was damaging the structure of their family. Fugaku was at a loss on how to address her behavior. She’d already fulfilled her duty by providing him with sons, so divorce was out of the question.

She was happily chatting with Sasuke when he sat, having provided rice for everyone but him. Fugaku served himself in the kitchen, returning to the table to hear Sasuke’s account of the latest letter from his absent teammate.

“…Sakura says he’s at least gotten better at picking souvenirs. In the beginning he kept sending instant ramen.”

“Oh, I remember that!” Mikoto laughed and nudged the pickles in Itachi’s direction. “I think the ‘Curry Bonanza’ flavor was my favorite.”

Sasuke winced.

“I liked the strawberry ramen,” Itachi offered.

His brother snorted into his bowl. “You and Sakura both.”

“Speaking of Sakura-chan,” Fugaku inserted into the conversation. “I’ve heard she’s doing well under the Godaime. Her skills as a medic are much in demand on missions.”

“Fugaku.” Mikoto put her chopsticks down with a firm _click_ and reached for her tea. “We’ve agreed no shop talk at the dinner table. Our boys get enough of that during the day, don’t you think?”

He twisted his face into the kind of smile his wife had been deploying against him.

“We haven’t seen Sakura-chan in a while. I’m merely commenting on her progress, Mikoto.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw their sons exchange a look, and his irritation flared.

“Sakura’s busy at the hospital, Chichi-ue. It’s hard for her to make time, even when she wants to.”

“She’s prioritizing her career and that dedication is commendable. But she’s always been close to both of you, and is always welcome in our home as part of our family. Tell her that when you see her next, Sasuke.”

He nodded, expression guarded. “We’re training later this week. I’ll tell her then.”

“Good.” Fugaku’s smile became less forced, pleased at the opening provided. “And you, Itachi? The two of you used to train together as well.”

“Our schedules are difficult to align, but we have lunch together if we can. I bring her dango at the hospital when missions permit.”

Itachi was rarely injured on missions. That he purposely sought Sakura during his limited free time was an encouraging sign.

“It’s good the two of you make time to see each other. Sakura-chan’s friendship has been an asset to you, and I’m pleased the relationship remains intact.”

Mikoto casually redirected the conversation to other topics then. Fugaku let her, content with the information he’d gathered.

Haruno Sakura’s initial affection for his eldest had been unwelcome, if understandable. She wasn’t the first kunoichi to see the appeal of marriage into a clan as a way to improve her own standing but, lacking connections, would never make a worthwhile match.

That had changed when Uzumaki’s departure disbanded Team Seven. Sakura’s ambition had surprised him: Not only had she targeted the most powerful shinobi in the village, but she’d thrived under her tutelage, earning herself a place in Konoha’s political hierarchy.

Fugaku had reconsidered, but as Head Sasuke would need to marry within the Clan to keep the bloodline pure. Instead, he’d realized the perfect solution. The other clans would block the appointment of any one clan’s Heir, fearing favoritism. But Itachi had it within him to become Hokage, and could pursue a career outside the Clan as the second son. Itachi’s distinguished service record and ANBU status did much to recommend him, but a politically advantageous marriage to the Godaime’s favored apprentice would bolster his prospects.

Uchiha Madara had abandoned the village when his quest for power failed. That impatience had been their Honored Ancestor’s major failing. Even if the Uchiha had been denied their right, his violent confrontation with Senju Hashirama had only damaged the Clan’s reputation and set them back. Now that he had the same chance, Fugaku would not repeat past mistakes. Waiting for the pieces to align was tedious, but he would do it gladly if it meant accomplishing what the Founder couldn’t—elevating the Uchiha to the title of Kage.

* * *

 

(17/12)

Kaa-san set a plate of watermelon beside them with a smile and an absent kiss to their foreheads. Neither of them said anything when, minutes after her departure, doors opened inside the house as their father checked the kitchen and retreated to his study when he didn’t find what he was looking for.

The heavy late afternoon sunlight and the droning of the cicadas had almost lulled him to sleep when Itachi spoke.

“She’s happier, now that she’s going on missions again.”

“Hn.”

Sasuke turned, but the plate hadn’t replenished itself since the last time he’d checked and he was still too lazy to retrieve more.

“Do you… Is it always like that?”

“What?” Sasuke blinked drowsily, then blushed when he realized what Itachi meant.

“You- Why are you asking me?”

Itachi was silent, and Sasuke dragged a hand through his hair to give himself time to think as he woke up.

Itachi wasn’t close with his genin teammates, and ANBU didn’t seem like the place for conversations about relationships. Their sensei would be useless, neither Kakashi nor Anko exactly being the “caring mentor” type. Sakura— Awkward. The dobe was too dumb to realize he was pining over someone who’d had a crush on him since they were kids. And Itachi had seen Shisui confronted one too many times by pissed off former lovers to think their cousin was a good source of advice.

Sasuke stifled a sigh, not wanting his brother to think he was being a burden.

“It’s not supposed to be.”

“So then, why…?”

Sasuke frowned when he realized Itachi was pressing his clenched fists against his thighs. Their father could crow all he liked about Itachi’s “superior skills,” but he didn’t understand that the Itachi who went on ANBU missions was different from the real Itachi. Sasuke hadn’t always known it himself, but there were some ways he was better equipped than his brother and he didn’t understand, after all these years, how their father still couldn’t see that.

This time Sasuke did sigh. He took it back— Sakura could’ve handled this conversation _so_ much better than him. He’d tell her about this later and she’d smack him for being an idiot, he just knew it.

“Sometimes… people drift apart.”

His brother turned searching eyes on him, and Sasuke tried for a better explanation.

“They don’t want the same things anymore.”

“For us?”

“Hn.” Sasuke nodded. “And for the Clan, and themselves.”

Crickets joined the cicadas as the sun slanted lower, but Sasuke remained quiet as he waited for Itachi.

“Was it all for the Clan, or did they care in the beginning?”

 _Kami._ Sasuke gazed up at the setting sun to hide his wince. _Naruto_ would have been better at this than him. The Ero Sannin had dragged him through all sorts of tawdry places doing “research” for his stupid books; he must have picked up _something_ about the things people did for power and social standing.

He chewed his lip for a moment, then stopped because that was Sakura’s bad habit and thinking about her reminded him of the scolding he’d probably get when this was all over. Was it worth trying to avoid the worst parts of this conversation? Itachi could be slow to understand, but he’d already started putting things together on his own and he would go looking for the answers if Sasuke didn’t tell him.

Unless their father pulled his head out of his ass and agreed to compromise things weren’t going to change—would only continue to get worse. Sasuke had tried with his limited power as the eldest to protect his brother, take some of the responsibility away, but Itachi’s life had been affected for years now. He deserved to know why before the Clan finished turning him into their puppet, and if that meant opposing their father…

Sasuke had made his choice long before he’d begun to realize what their father was planning for Itachi, maybe even from the moment his team saw in a glance what so many others had never understood.

“Maybe they did. But Kaa-san discovered something she cared about more than the Clan, and for Chichi-ue there is nothing else.”

“But— We _are_ part of the Clan.”

“Hn.” Sasuke turned his head to look at his brother. “Itachi, do you _like_ being a shinobi?”

Itachi flinched and dropped his eyes. Sasuke hated pointing out his vulnerabilities, but it was the easiest way to help him understand.

“Did you want to be ANBU? Or to be promoted early?”

“N-No, Nii-san.”

More gently, Sasuke asked: “What do _you_ want to do, Itachi?”

Long past the age their father considered “acceptable,” Itachi had crawled into his bed after a bad mission still reeking of burnt meat and blood. Face pressed to Sasuke’s neck, he’d confessed a long-hidden desire in a shaking voice barely above a whisper. Sasuke had known then their father’s plan for Itachi would never work—no matter what he was capable of—not as long as Itachi didn’t want it for himself. They’d never spoken of that conversation in the light of day, but he hadn’t forgotten.

“…Jounin-sensei,” Itachi said quietly after a long pause. “Or sensei at the Academy.”

The words were directed at his lap, fear at voicing his wish aloud in what should have been the safety of their own home obvious in his body language. Sasuke felt a sudden surge of anger at their father, and pushed it aside for when it would be more productive. It was no wonder Kaa-san had started taking missions again if this was what she felt every day.

“Have you told Chichi-ue?”

Mutely, Itachi shook his head.

“That’s why Kaa-san disagrees.”

Itachi nodded once, lips pinched together as he stared at the slowly emerging stars. Sasuke waited.

“Can’t I help the Clan by following my own path?”

“Do you think you can? Kaa-san thinks so. I do too.”

His brother nodded jerkily.

“I want to try.”

Sasuke slid over until he was close enough to put his arm around his brother’s shoulder. Itachi leaned into the embrace, fingers darting to clutch at Sasuke’s shirt the way he had when he was much younger.

“Nii-san,” Itachi murmured, face pressed against the material, “Sakura said once that you weren’t like Chichi-ue at all. You won’t be like him when you’re Head.”

“Yeah,” Sasuke agreed, and held him tighter.

After a while he carefully untangled them and offered Itachi a hand up, flicking his brother on the forehead before bending to retrieve the plate of rinds.

“Come on. We might just catch Naruto on his fifth bowl if we hurry, and Sakura’s off at ten.”

Itachi didn’t smile, but his eyes warmed and the premature lines beneath them lightened. “Aa.”

* * *

 

That night, after he’d checked on Itachi in the spare bedroom, Sasuke dropped to the table and grunted in thanks when Sakura passed him a glass of juice.

Since he and Sakura still lived at home Naruto’s place had become their customary gathering spot. Sasuke had always suspected Kaa-san’s influence in Naruto’s post-Academy move to a bigger and better apartment, but since he and Itachi were over so often he figured she’d gotten what she wanted and there was no point bringing it up.

“Everything ok, teme-nii?”

“Shut up, dobe,” he said automatically, and stole the shrimp chips. “He’s fine. He never sleeps enough.”

“He knows he can come over whenever he wants. I’ll protect him from your old man, dattebayo!”

“He shouldn’t _need_ —” Sasuke cut himself off with a growl and stared into the depths of the bag without seeing anything. “I just hope I did the right thing.”

Naruto shrugged prosaically and reached into the bag, spraying crumbs all over him.

“Your dad’s even more of a teme than you are. Itachi was gonna find out eventually and this way he won’t be disappointed later.”

Sakura looked up from painting her nails and rolled her eyes before thumping Naruto on the head.

“Naruto, geez! Not that I don’t agree about Uchiha-san being awful—no offense, Sasuke—” He grunted again because she wasn’t wrong. “—but instead of saying you’ll protect him you need to hurry up and become Hokage. Does Itachi know what your father wants?”

Sasuke gave a one-shoulder shrug and smacked Naruto away when he tried to reach for the bag again.

“I didn’t say, but Itachi’s smart enough to realize it on his own.”

“Stupid,” Sakura _tsked_ as she examined her nails. There was a tiny flare of chakra and her frown changed to satisfaction as she switched hands.

“He picked the wrong son if he wants to control the Hokage.”

“As if I’d _let_ him use teme to get to me.” Naruto snorted and gave up on the chips after another smack.

“He won’t even share with me!”

“ _Nobody_ is using the Hokage,” Sakura declared firmly.

She ignored Naruto’s wounded expression when Sasuke allowed her to take a handful of chips.

“The Uchiha aren’t that badly off they need to upset the balance of power in the village to improve their standing, and fostering that kind of environment is never a good idea. Just look at what happened with Orochimaru.”

All three of them scowled, Naruto’s lips peeling back to reveal teeth.

“With someone steadier as Head of the Clan the Hyuuga will back off too and then…” she shrugged.

“Hn,” Sasuke agreed.

“Ne, your clan’s pretty troublesome, teme,” Naruto sighed, poking forlornly at one of Sakura’s dango. “If your old man turns into the next Uchiha Madara does that mean I have to fight him for control of the village?”

He shuddered dramatically.

“Ugh, that makes it sound like I’d be challenging him for your hand in marriage. Gross!”

When neither of them replied he glanced up and frowned at their expressions.

“What?”

“You know… I was impressed that you’d remembered something from history at the Academy.” Sakura rescued the dango before Naruto could mutilate it further. “But I should’ve known better.”

“Hey, I remember plenty from the Academy!”

Sakura smirked suddenly, eyes gone bright with glee and, oh no, that expression never meant well.

“Like how you and Sasuke were each other’s first kiss?”

Her smile widened at their twin looks of horror.

“Actually, the two of you marrying would be the perfect solution. Then Uchiha-san would think he had an in with the Hokage and he’d lay off Itachi and take you seriously, Sasuke.”

“Sakura-chan,” Naruto sputtered, “I’m not marrying teme for _politics!_ ”

Despite himself, Sasuke felt some of his initial disgust fade in light of the dobe’s typically nonsensical response.

“Seriously, _that’s_ your main objection?”

“ _I’m_ getting married for love,” Naruto said archly, clearly still missing the point. “ _You_ can have your clan pay the dowry for your arranged marriage, or whatever it is the Uchiha do.”

Sasuke frowned, trying to figure out if it was worth addressing any of that, then gave up because it was Naruto and of course not.

As if on cue, Sakura burst out laughing.

“But, Naruto,” she managed to get out while snickering, “if you married Sasuke Itachi would be your brother.”

 _Kami curse her_ , she knew _exactly_ what she was doing because Naruto paused, unaware or ignoring Sakura’s fresh laughter, and actually _thought_ about it.

“Nuh-uh. Itachi deserves family members that marry for the right reasons.”

Then he grinned obnoxiously wide and started laughing, he and Sakura falling all over each other as they giggled. This, Sasuke reflected, was the perfect time to get rid of his pesky teammates once and for all, now that mutual glee over their stupid prank had compromised their reflexes and relaxed their guards.

His brother was in the next room sleeping for the first time in what was probably months, and Sasuke’s Idiot Teammates, who’d somehow survived seventeen years of life mostly as shinobi, were cackling like hyena summons on soldier pills. Of course Itachi was so at ease in Naruto’s apartment he could and did sleep through anything, likely including the next village invasion, and that thought was the only thing that kept Sasuke from efficiently dispatching his “friends.”

“Speaking of marrying for the right reasons,” he said with his best sneer. “You two should. You _deserve_ each other.”

Sakura started gasping breathlessly, interspersed with the great ugly snort she liked to pretend she didn’t do to anyone who hadn’t known her long enough not to believe her innocent act. Naruto laughed so hard his eyes and nose ran.

Later—after they’d both _grown up_ —Naruto was celebrating renewed access to the shrimp chips by attempting to eat the entire bag in one bite. Five years of teammateship and unofficial adoption by Kaa-san had barely scraped the surface of his deplorable table manners; Naruto still ate like a stray competing with the other animals at the pound.

Sasuke was watching in horrified fascination when Sakura leaned over and punched him in the arm.

“You did well, Sasuke. Itachi’s lucky to have a brother like you.”

Typically, even praise from Sakura came with minor bodily harm. She smiled as she delivered the punch though, eyes warm and green.

“Hn.” He looked away, face hot for reasons he chose not to identify.

Naruto finished off the bag, wiped his mouth daintily with one of the paper napkins Itachi liked to stock his apartment with, and began rummaging behind a stack of empty instant ramen cups masquerading as modern art that Itachi had given up and washed because it made Naruto sad when he threw them out.

“Oi, teme, I got those wasabi peas you and your brother like so much. Don’t eat them all so Itachi can have some later.”

Fine. He’d let them live this time, if only so he didn’t have to train new teammates on his snack preferences and complicated family situation. Sasuke rolled his eyes and reached for the bag.

“As if I would. I’m not _you_ , dobe.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean!”

* * *


End file.
